


Blackwing Lair

by Flarenwrath



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Dubious Consent, Egg Laying, Implied/Referenced Incest, Impregnation, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Scents & Smells, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarenwrath/pseuds/Flarenwrath
Summary: After his failure in Draenor, Wrathion returns to Azeroth to reclaim Blackwing Lair. Unbeknownst to him, its old master had never left.





	Blackwing Lair

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Wrathion is trans. (he just is). Also its not peer reviewed. My bad.
> 
> I sort of figure that Nefarian is Wrathion's real father, so this counts as Incest.   
> But Nefarian also fucked his sister, so like... ? Its cannon incest.

He should feel some sympathy. 

-Or at the very least feel something for them. After all, who else could know how it truly feels to be the subject of draconic experimentation like he could. 

However, even as Wrathion watched the hooked bodies of the drakes gently swing from the chains hanging from the ceiling of the lair, he felt nothing. He stared into the dead eyes of a red drake, its scales now dulled and ashen from its many years spent rotting on its hook. 

If Wrathion were to be honest, he would say it served them right. 

It wasn't long after his own barbaric creation that Nefarian had given Alexstraza's conniving flight a taste of their own medicine. And even thought that had not been his Uncle's intention, a part of him was still glad that at least some justice had been done.

"Perhaps if you had destroyed my Uncle's research the first time instead of stealing it for yourselves, you would not be hanging here now, hmm?", he quipped to the corpse with a smug smirk.

As expected, the bodies gave no response- only the distant sound of chains clanging against one another rang out through the lair. 

With a derisive snort, Wrathion left the drakes- content to let them resume rotting in their tomb- nd continued to explore the abandoned Blackrock laboratory. 

After he was met with failure in Draenor, it has become apparent that Wrathion needed somewhere to reorganize his plans without either the Horde or Alliance interruption. Blackwing Lair had seemed like the obvious choice at the time, but now as he walked its abandoned hallways and breathed its stale air that still stank of "Dragon" he was starting to second guess himself.

It took the full of his force to push open yet another heavy dark iron door. 

This time, thankfully, it was not full of draconic decay but instead the unorganized remnants of Nefarian's "studies". Embers shouldered in the brazier's in the corners of the room and Wrathion wondered if some lingering twilight cultist had come to raid his Uncle's research.

"No matter...", he murmured to himself as he dragged his clawed fingers along the table, knocking the papers to the floor in the process, "This place will not remain unguarded for long."

Distantly, he noted that the smell of Dragon was stronger in this room than the rest of the lair. 

The scent of it had been subtle at first, but the longer he stayed, the stronger the scent became. He wrinkled his nose and suppressed a shiver as the musky odor briefly overwhelmed his senses.

"This must have been Uncle's room...", Wrathion thought out loud, pausing in his destructive meanderings to appreciate a sketch of a beautiful woman with long dark hair and striking eyes hidden amongst the frantic notes. It was clear that a lot of effort had gone into perfectly recreating the likeness of whomever it was. 

A loud clang interrupted his thoughts and jolted him to attention and caused the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in warning. Briefly, he felt the paranoid fear that he was somehow found out and that Stormwind had sent a battalion to once again purge dragons from the mountain.

After waiting agonizing minutes in silence, staring at the door and dreading for the other boot to drop, Wrathion had finally convinced himself that it must have been nothing. 

A loose boulder falling free perhaps...

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and resumed his wanderings.

The next iron door he opened squealed loudly in protest, displeased with movement after what must have been decades of unuse. Once he had the door open he noted that this room, unlike the rest of the lair, was pitch black; the only illumination being the light of the braziers spilling in from the hallway in through the open door.

A heavy ball formed in the pit of Wrathion's stomach and sank as a sixth sense of unease overcame him. Yet despite the innate warnings, his curiosity had easily won out and he cautiously stepped inside. 

However, he was only able to make it a few steps past the entrance before his foot stepped on something thin and brittle causing the sound of a loud crunch to echo off the iron walls of the room.

Swallowing around a lump that formed in his throat, he rolled his foot and looked down to see what it was that he had crushed... only to realize that it was the remnants of a black shell.

"This is...", he gasped, his eyes widened as he frantically looked around the room. Bits of eggshell and scales littered the floor, all of telltale signs of a Dragon nest.

"Well, well... What do we have hear...", a deep voice drawled out languidly behind him. The same heady musky smell that lingered in the whole of the lair now overwhelmed him as its source closed in on him. Fear, the likes of which Wrathion had rarely ever felt, gripped his chest as he slowly turned to face the strange yet familiar voice. 

Meer inches from him stood a older dark skinned man who was easily two heads taller than himself wearing nothing but tight leather pants and a loose unfastened shirt. The man's black hair was straight and smooth and long enough to brush the edges of his shoulders when his head turned, facial hair well groomed into a moustache and goatee that radiated malicious intention, and his eyes-!! His eyes glowed with a golden fire! The exact kind that Wrathion had personally vowed would never been seen on the face of Azeroth again!

"You're a Dragon-!", Wrathion gasped in stunned horror. 

The man gave him a toothed grin in response. 

"Very astute...", he mocked as he reached out and brushed his thumb affectionately across Wrathion's cheek. "I don't remember making you...", he murmured, more to himself than to the whelp. The unexpected touch combined with the shock of seeing another Dragon made Wrathion's cheeks flush. 

The only thing that Wrathion could manage to say that wouldn't be subject to the threat of his voice cracking in terror was a -"You didn't..."

"Oh?", Nefarian purred, the deep rumble reverberated off the walls and forced a tremble through Wrathion's small frame. He seemed to notice as his smirk widened. 

"Then where did you come from, child? Who are your parents?"

The mocking tone in his voice was clear, but Wrathion had latched onto it enough to momentarily shake himself free from the other Dragon's hold. 

"I am the son of Deathwing!", he loudly proclaimed, although when he heard his own voice echo in the small room it had become painfully obvious that it was far less powerful than he had intended.

"Deathwing?!", Nefarian said with a cruel laugh. The man's hand that had been brushing Wrathion's cheek now roughly grabbed his jaw and forced his head to turn. 

"With this coloration, it is clear that you are no whelp of Sinestra!" He studied the boy's face for a long moment before continuing with clinical appraise, "Nyxondra, however..."

With one strong hand holding his jaw still, the other came up to knock Wrathion's turban to the ground and exposed his still growing horns. 

"Yes... If I had to guess, it would be my dear Nyxondra..." The older Dragon's comments were once again made to himself rather than for Wrathion's benefit.

"And here I thought all of her whelp's were destroyed..." Nefarian's burning eyes focused intensely on Wrathion once more, and the whelp couldn't help but feel his age for once in his life. 

"So where did you come from, I wonder." Wrathion's legs trembled as he opened his mouth to try and speak, only managing a faint-

"The red flight-". That was all the clarification Nefarian needed, it seemed, as the hand that stripped him of his turban now trailed lower until he begun to strip him of his shirt. 

"I had heard that Alexstraza's minions had schemed a secret plot against Deathwing, but I did not think they would ever be successful...". As Wrathion's armor and sash fell to the floor, leaving his chest exposed, the older Dragon's hands groped him roughly... appraisingly. 

"You must be the Lifebinder's retort to my ... adjustments... to her dear Vaelastrasz." 

Wrathion had no idea what it was Nefarian was talking about, and either assumed he was mad from his flight's systemic corruption or that there were even more secrets about his life own that were being kept from him. 

As the man's groping hand slid up past his ribs and roughly squeezed the recently formed pseudo breast on his chest, Wrathion couldn't help but let out a loud whine.

This seemed to please the older man as he did it again, this time pushing his thumb nail down and pinching Wrathion's skin before dragging it harshly against his nipple. The pain eliciting another loud cry from his throat.

"The Lifebinder's handywork is obvious.", he murmured as he squeezed Wrathion's pseudo breast again, "Even though they used my research to make you, I can't help but be jealous with their handiwork..." As Nefarian's voice trailed off the hand groping his chest suddenly released him only to travel lower and begin to unlace his pants.

Wrathion's throat clenched again and he tried to tell the other Dragon to stop, only to be cut short when the hand on his jaw tightened warningly. Despite the circumstances, Wrathion's sexual inexperience didn't know how to process what was happening. None of these touches were anywhere near as slow or as gentle as Anduin, but also never had he felt such raw power taking what it wanted from him. 

And all the while the heady musky scent the other Dragon gave off only fueled some unknown primal urge deep within him.

By the time the older Dragon's hand dipped between his legs to rub against his slit, he was already leaking.

"Just think of it, child-!", Nefarian growled in triumph as he rubbed his fingers against Wrathion's slick lips, forcing themselves between the velvety folds and pressing against his tight hole, "Alexstraza was so fixated on 'saving' our flight, that she provided us the perfect tool for their utter destruction!" 

Wrathion swallowed against the grip holding him still, still so horribly confused about what his Uncle meant, but starting to figure out what it was going to mean for him. Nefarian leaned forward and pressed his nose against the top of Wrathion's skull between his little horns, breathing in the boy's scent deeply.

"With my beloved Onyxia dead, there is no longer a broodmother...", he murmured as he pushed a single clawed finger inside of Wrathion. Despite the boy's slick it was still a painful intrusion and Wrathion let out a soft mewl of discomfort. 

"Yet hear you are, son of mine, pure-" the finger thrust hard into Wrathion's hole, burring itself up to the knuckle, "-untainted!", another finger forced its way inside before scissoring him and stretching his hole wider than ever before.

Wrathion clung to the older Dragon's loose shirt and shoulders for support as his legs trembled from the unfamiliar sensations. His voice betrayed him with soft mewls and cries, all forced from his throat with each thrust and twisting of the large fingers inside of him. 

So lost he was that it didn't even register when the man had let go of his grip on his jaw to undo his own leather pants.

"Together we can create a new flight-!", Nefarian growled as he guided Wrathion's naked form onto the shell covered ground. Only needing a gentle touch from the older Dragon's hands on his inner thighs to get him to spread his legs wide enough to allow entry. 

"Your first clutch will give me the last tools I need to finish my experiments..." Wrathion cried out as a finger dipped down and slid between his lips only to curl up and tease against his clit. "Then together we can destroy the Red flight." 

It was then that Nefarian pressed his lips against Wrathion's own in a dominating kiss. 

Wrathion could feel his blood pulse through him to his painfully hard clit as his whole body flushed at the touch as the older man's surprisingly soft lips sucked and pressed against his own. 

So lost he was in the pleasure of it that he didn't even realize the older man's cock was rubbing between his lips until the tip of it pushed inside.

"AH~!", Wrathion cried as he clung desperately to the other Dragon's back, his whole mind spinning from the bombardment of touch, taste, and scent as his legs instinctually wrap around the man's waist, pulling him close and silently urging him in deeper.

"There's a good boy...", Nefarian murmured as he steadily pushed the length of his cock inside. Wrathion threw his head back against the stone ground and his legs began to tremble as the Dragon's cock stretched him wider than he had ever been before. 

Yet even as his hole burned from the sheer stretch, his clit throbbed painfully. Never before had he felt so thoroughly taken than in this moment!

"That's it, son", the deep voice crooned as his hole was stretched to its limit. However, kinky pet name, Wrathion couldn't help but let out a high whine and clench his inner walls; leaking out more slick wetness onto both the thick cock impaling him as well as down the crack of his own ass. 

"Just let yourself be bred..." Nefarian crooned soothingly once more as his body was pushed even further. 

Only finally was it able to relax when Nefarian's cock bottomed out inside of him. The older Dragon bit and nuzzled against Wrathion's neck affectionately while the whelp acclimated to being so utterly -full-. 

But before he was fully ready, the man rolled his hips forward and forced out a scream from Wrathion's strained throat as the tip of his cock pushed against the entrance to his womb.

The change in pressure triggered something, and Wrathion saw the man's eyes flash a dark red only momentarily before he had had to screw them shut as the other Dragon began to thrust into him at a brutal pace, forcing a scream out from his lungs as he dug his nails into Nefarian's shoulder as he held on tight for the ride. 

Wrathion's hole burned as he was continuously streched wide by the thick cock impailing him. Yet despite the pain, there was a pressure there that built and built inside of him. And with each thrust against his womb it made his toes curl.

In fact, the pressure had built so rapidly that Wrathion was quite shocked when he found himself cumming on Nefarian's cock harder than he had ever before.

"Yes~!", the older Dragon purred loudly, changing his pace to shallow but fast thrusts as he rode out Wrathion's climax before finally thrusting hard once more inside of the whelp and releasing his thick hot sperm inside of him.

The two of them gasped for breath on the floor for a long moment before the reality of what Wrathion had done began to sink in. 

By then the older Dragon was gently stroking the soft skin directly above his pubic hair and murmuring unintelligible praise against his ear.

"A new flight. A -pure- flight..." was all Wrathion could make out before he let himself relax and simply enjoy the pleasure of being doted upon by a mate.

 

~.~.~.~.~

-Months later-

 

Wrathion's legs trembled as they were pushed up and spread wide. 

He would have been embarrassed from how exposed this position made him, but it was only Nefarian between his legs and the older Dragon was purring for him and murmuring soft praise while he rubbed at Wrathion's large and swollen belly.

"There's a good boy. Nice and slow..."

Wrathion could feel his cheeks flush and turned his head to the side, unable to watch as his body was stretched wide... 

And yet, he did as he was told and after taking a deep breath, he very slowly bared down on the large lumps inside his belly, his hole being stretched wide as a single egg slowly breached him.

"There you are!" Nefarian praised again as he pushed a finger side of Wrathion alongside of the leathery egg. 

"They'll come easier next time, I promise." he cooed as his finger helped stretch Wrathion's hole even wider to help accommodate the egg's maximum girth.

The second the largest part of it was through, the rest of the egg slid out easily into a mucusy pile on the ground. 

Wrathion could only manage a loud whine before Nefarian was rubbing his belly again, urging another egg into his birth canal.

"One down, eight more too go."


End file.
